Three Paths
by evadnekapaneos
Summary: This is a triptych about the Black sisters. The left wing shows the friendship between the sisters, the centre depicts how Bellatrix became a Death Eater and the right wing shows the the separation between Andromeda and Narcissa. (The rating refers to the middle piece.)
1. One Day in Autumn

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

 _A/N This story is set on Sunday, 27 October 1968; I assume that Bellatrix was born in early 1951, Andromeda in autumn 1953 and Narcissa in summer 1955, making them 7th, 4th and third year students respectively (there are no exact dates of their births given, are there?). This part of the story - in contrast to the one to follow - is light and harmless with almost no trace of conflict._

* * *

One bright October morning, three girls left Hogwarts castle together. As they proceeded and the crowd, that had formed around the entrance of the castle, dispersed on the way to the village of Hogsmeade, they provided an entertaining sight for the onlooker. All slim and with a light gait, they walked hand in hand, the tallest on the one, the smallest on the other side so that they had a vague resemblance to pan pipes. Although all three had long, thick hair, their colour ranged from dark, to light brown, to blonde, starting from the tallest. The same observation could have been made in regard to their eyes, all heavily lidded, but - as an overly enthusiastic poet might put it - having the colour of charcoal, hazelnut and the sea respectively. Despite these differences, anyone watching would have known them for sisters.

ʻWhere should we go first?ʼ asked the middler, addressing the tallest to her right.

ʻItʼs Cissyʼs first visit to Hogsmeade,ʼ said the girl in a deep, melodious voice. ʻI guess itʼs only fair to let her chose.ʼ

ʻI?ʼ squeaked Cissy. ʻHow would I know? You are far better at deciding than I am.ʼ

Both smaller sisters turned to look up at the third.

ʻThen I suggest,ʼ said the girl gravely, ʻthat we just go from shop to shop, quite systematically. We can rest at the Three Broomsticks, before we explore the countryside. Itʼs quite warm for October.ʼ

Her smaller sisters nodded reverently while the first roofs of Hogsmeade became visible before them.

ʻOh, but it looks lovely,ʼ exclaimed Cissy. ʻHow small these houses are. There must live queer little witches and wizards.ʼ

ʻThatʼs the countryside,ʼ said the tallest a little contemptuously. ʻThey lack style and dignity. I donʼt think thereʼs a single noteworthy wizarding family living here. But at least, we are among ourselves.ʼ

ʻAnd itʼs far more picturesque than some big place,ʼ said the middle girl cheerfully. ʻDidnʼt Grandfather once think about buying property here and building a villa?ʼ

ʻIndeed,ʼ answered the tallest. ʻBut the locals couldnʼt cope with the announced splendour and made so much mischief he gave up on the project.ʼ

ʻIt would have been funny to live right next to the school,ʼ said the middler. ʻWe might even have been able to go home overnight.ʼ

ʻThat would have been lovely,ʼ agreed Cissy, turning to look at the towers of the castle mostly hidden by trees.

ʻIt might have added to our dignity,ʼ said the tallest. ʻBut this is hardly necessary. We are one of the noblest wizarding families anyway and our name makes us respectable.ʼ

ʻI do hope we are not just respected for our names,ʼ interjected the middle sister. ʻIʼve got a personality beyond it, havenʼt I?ʼ

ʻHave you?ʼ asked the tallest, looking disapprovingly down at her, just as they reached the first shops. ʻLetʼs go into the new shop by that Flume,ʼ she added, pointing.

ʻNew?ʼ asked the middler. ʻIʼve already been there last year and-ʼ

ʻTrue,ʼ interrupted the tallest with a smile. ʻItʼs been new when I first went to Hogsmeade, but thatʼs now... four years ago.ʼ

ʻHoneydukes?ʼ read Cissy the sign above the shop. ʻIsnʼt this written too on the packages Professor Slughorn always has around?ʼ

ʻExactly,ʼ said the middler merrily. ʻHeʼs patronised him and now reaps what he sowed.ʼ

ʻDonʼt talk so disrespectfully, Drommy,ʼ chided the tallest at once. ʻThe Slughorns are an ancient British wizarding family and have a right to be respected.ʼ

ʻI respect Slughorn,ʼ said Drommy defensively. ʻHeʼs a brilliant wizard and a great teacher. I just pointed out some of his more... special character traits.ʼ

Cissy giggled, but the tallest gave her sisters a quelling look as she ushered them into the crowded shop.

ʻOh my!ʼ exclaimed Cissy. ʻThereʼs more than at Sharkskin in Dragon Alley.ʼ

ʻYou know, Bella,ʼ said Drommy, addressing the tallest, ʻwe could get Sirius something. Itʼs his ninth birthday in a week.ʼ

Bella frowned and joined Drommy before a barrel of Every Flavour Beans. She looked over the shop in a disdainful manner, obviously feeling infinitely above the average student, who eagerly emptied the shelves.

ʻThatʼs a good idea,ʼ she finally said, even smiling thinly at her sister. ʻWhat should we get him?ʼ

ʻBest something that only Honeydukes has,ʼ said Drommy, giving the Every Flavour Beans a derisive smile. ʻCissy, what do you see here for the first time?ʼ

Astonished, Cissy drew nearer to her companions and looked shyly around.

ʻI... probably some chocolate? What tastes...ʼ

Drommy laid an arm around her little sisters shoulder and squeezed herself through the crowd to several shelves at a wall where hundreds of different kind of chocolate were displayed.

ʻUrg, pomegranate chocolate,ʼ said Bella, who had followed her sisters. ʻHow can anyone eat chocolate with fruit flavour. Thatʼs disgusting.ʼ

ʻBut Bella,ʼ protested Drommy, ʻlook, thereʼs already much gone from the strawberry flavoured chocolate and the peppermint-ʼ

ʻPeppermintʼs all right,ʼ grumbled Bella. ʻBut when I want to eat strawberries, I donʼt eat chocolate.ʼ

ʻYou donʼt have to eat it,ʼ said Drommy cheerfully, taking a small bag from a box. ʻWhat do we want to get Sirius, Cissy?ʼ

Cissy scrutinized the shelves and then with a furtive glance at Bella who had gone several feet a away to look at a jar with Acid Pops she pointed at a chocolate.

ʻGet this,ʼ she whispered, tiptoeing to speak in her sisterʼs ear. ʻSirius loves melon.ʼ

Drommy also looked carefully over to Bella before she quickly broke off a large junk and hid it in the bag.

They repeated this several times, though - after adding strawberries and pineapple - with more openness as they proceeded to peppermint, honey and caramel.

ʻHave you finished?ʼ asked Bella, ambling over to her sisters again. With a wicked grin, she held out the sweets in her hand and added, ʻDo we want to send him some Acid Pops too?ʼ

ʻVery funny,ʼ said Drommy dryly. ʻWho doesnʼt want his tongue burnt?ʼ

ʻHeʼs a horrible nuisance of a boy,ʼ said Bella, shrugging.

ʻHe actually never listens to me,ʼ said Cissy sadly. ʻHeʼs so disobedient.ʼ

ʻHeʼs a witty boy,ʼ disagreed Drommy, grinning. ʻHeʼs much fun.ʼ

ʻYouʼve got a sick sense humour,ʼ snapped Bella.

ʻI?ʼ snapped Drommy back. ʻWho wants to give him Acid Pops?ʼ

ʻNever mind, I was joking,ʼ said Bella a bit grumpily, going away a few steps to put the Acid Pops back in place.

ʻYou never tried to babysit them,ʼ whispered Cissy to Drommy. ʻIf you once tried to make Sirius go to bed, you wouldnʼt think it funny.ʼ

ʻDonʼt take it personal,ʼ said Drommy, smiling. ʻBetter look around the shop to see what youʼd like.ʼ

Cissy surveyed the shop again. ʻWhatʼll you buy?ʼ she asked after a while helplessly.

Her elder sisters exchanged a glance. ʻIce cream,ʼ they said in unison.

Cissy looked relieved. ʻI take the same as you.ʼ

Just as Drommy wanted to proceed in the direction of the ice, Bella held her back. ʻLetʼs wait until the afternoon,ʼ she commanded. ʻWeʼll just buy the chocolate for now.ʼ

None of her sisters showed the slightest sign of protest and Drommy proceeded alone to the counter while Bella led Cissy out of the shop.

When Drommy had rejoined them, they continued their way down the street into the village.

ʻWe need a card,ʼ stated Bella. ʻWeʼll try Scrivenshaftʼs. I need a new quill anyway.ʼ

They walked past shops selling clothes, household devices or fireworks, until they reached a little shop that had its window full of quills, from delicate downs to majestic peacock feathers.

They entered and Bella strolled around, scrutinizing the quills sceptically while Drommy and Cissy retreated to a stand with cards.

On one reading ʻCongratulations on Passing your Apparition Testʼ, there was a wizard who continually disappeared with swirling robes and popped up on some other place on the card. Another showed a girl who pointed her wand at an elderly woman, transforming her into a cockroach, and had the words ʻOf Age!ʼ printed above. On another black card a boy took a cloak from a man in a coffin, threw it around him and vanished. It was titled ʻWe All Must Go On.ʼ

ʻCome now,ʼ said Drommy to her sister who stared at that card. ʻWe donʼt want to condole. We need some "Happy Birthday" stuff.ʼ

ʻThatʼs sweet,ʼ said Cissy after a short scrutiny, pointing at a card where a fluffy white rabbit looked out from under a tree trunk. It crept out and changed into an old woman. She blinked out of the card and turned into the rabbit again. ʻItʼs Babbity Rabbity!ʼ

ʻI donʼt think Siriusʼd like such a silly rabbit, thatʼs far too mawkish if you think about the story.ʼ

ʻBut itʼs cute,ʼ argued Cissy, smiling at the card where the rabbit just turned back into the old woman.

ʻDrommyʼs right,ʼ said Bella, having walked up behind them. ʻThatʼs junk.ʼ

Cissy looked unhappy, but put the card back. She and Drommy turned to Bella, studying the displayed cards. She flipped impatiently through the them with a disapproving impression that prevented her sisters from making any suggestions.

ʻThis will do,ʼ Bella finally said, thrusting a card into Drommyʼs hand. Cissy leaned eagerly over for a better look. The card simply showed the night sky with the stars and planets and didnʼt have any writing on it.

ʻBut thatʼs boring,ʼ complained Cissy, before peeking anxiously up at her sister.

ʻNo, itʼs not,ʼ said Bella, smiling. ʻItʼs the only card here with superior magic. The stars form into the constellation under which the recipient was born and start to twinkle so that it reads ʻHappy Birthdayʼ. Sirius is a clever boy, heʼll appreciate it.ʼ

ʻI thought he was a nuisance,ʼ said Drommy.

ʻThat doesnʼt mean he hasnʼt got brains. In fact, that makes him even more of a nuisance.ʼ

ʻBetter a clever nuisance than a stupid darling.ʼ

ʻPoor Cissy,ʼ exclaimed Bella, laying an arm around her little sisterʼs shoulder. ʻDrommy likes me better than you.ʼ

The two elder girls giggled while their little sister looked at them with big eyes that slowly filled with tears.

ʻNow Cissy, donʼt be stupid,ʼ said Drommy when she had recovered enough. ʻThereʼs nothing to cry about.ʼ

ʻFor once I agree with Drommy,ʼ said Bella and placing a kiss on her sisterʼs head. ʻYou mustnʼt prove us right when we didnʼt believe in what we said.ʼ

After several more kisses and showers of tenderness, Cissy had recovered enough to allow the sisters to step up to the counter and buy the card together with an extravagant golden quill of about twelve inches.

ʻYou never do anything inconspicuously do you?ʼ asked Drommy, turning the quill in her free hand, her other arm around Cissy, while Bella counted out the Sickles and Knuts for their shopping.

ʻWhy should I?ʼ asked Bella loftily. ʻWe have all the right to live according to our dignity.ʼ

ʻYou certainly have,ʼ answered Drommy, linking her arm under her sisterʼs as they strolled onto the street again. ʻYou are the uncontested queen of the school.ʼ

ʻNo cynicism, Drommy,ʼ said her sister, grinning.

ʻI value my life,ʼ answered Drommy, pressing her arm.

ʻYou want to go anywhere else?ʼ asked Bella. ʻOr shall we go to the Three Broomsticks already?ʼ

ʻIʼll follow you anywhere,ʼ said Drommy. ʻIs there still a shop youʼd like to visit, Cissy dearest?ʼ

ʻI...ʼ whispered her sister anxiously, only by an additional squeeze from her sister encouraged enough to add, ʻIʼd have liked to go into Gladragsʼ.ʼ

ʻAs long as youʼre not being inconspicuous,ʼ snickered Bella, leading her sisters down the street again. They filed into a large shop which had stately robes in its window. All three went to the area where witch dress robes hang and started a parade from the robes to a large mirror on the next wall with ever new robes.

ʻThey got a bit of a disappointing collection this time,ʼ grumbled Drommy after putting back her seventh robe.

ʻMy words,ʼ sighed Bella. ʻYou remember last year, when they had that gorgeous bright blue and green silk dress robes.ʼ

ʻWe should have bought them then,ʼ moaned Drommy. ʻLook at this rubbish!ʼ

She showed a frilly robe with a pattern of roses to her elder sister who made a demonstrative retching sound. Cissy looked anxiously at them, hastily putting away the robe she had just considered.

ʻI suggest we go to the Three Broomsticks now,ʼ sighed Bella, taking Drommyʼs hand. ʻThatʼs depressing here. Did you see anything youʼd like Cissy?ʼ

The little sister nervously shook her head and quickly took her place on Drommyʼs free side. The sisters marched out of the shop and up the lane to a tiny inn. They squeezed into its noisy, smoky and warm atmosphere, taking off their winter cloaks. It was extremely crowded and it proved difficult to spot three free chairs.

ʻThereʼs a free table,ʼ said Drommy finally, pointing. But when she wanted to move in the indicated direction, Bella held her back.

ʻWe canʼt sit there,ʼ she hissed.

Drommy looked up at her sister in confusion. ʻWhatʼs wrong?ʼ

ʻThat girl sitting right next to it,ʼ whispered Bella with a disgusted expression, ʻthatʼs in my year, thatʼs nothing I would want any of you to come close with.ʼ

ʻBut Bella,ʼ protested Drommy, ʻshe canʼt be that infectious. Thereʼs so little free room here. You donʼt want us to grow roots on this spot, do you?ʼ

ʻDonʼt talk about what you donʼt understand,ʼ hissed Bella. ʻHow would it look if we three sat close to something like that? Imagine the shame if such closeness became public!ʼ

ʻWe canʼt avoid closeness in a crowded inn,ʼ reasoned Drommy. ʻThereʼs simply no other place where we could sit.ʼ

Without responding, Bella firmly gripped both her sistersʼ hands and dragged them through the rows of tables, carefully watching out. Luckily, a couple just got up at a little table in a quieter corner and even more luckily there was another free chair at the next table. And most luckily, the couple didnʼt attract Bellaʼs scorn, so the three girls could sink into the seats with relieved sighs.

ʻIʼll get us the Butterbeer,ʼ said Bella, heaving herself up again as soon as she had got rid of her gloves.

ʻDo you need help carrying?ʼ asked Drommy, half getting out from her seat.

ʻNo, no,ʼ said Bella, adding with a grin, ʻIʼm a witch you know.ʼ

Cissy sighed when Bella was far away enough. ʻYou two always say such strange things and I never know if youʼre joking.ʼ

ʻI generally am,ʼ said Drommy good-humouredly, stretching. ʻWith Bella, you must take the risk.ʼ

ʻI donʼt like risk.ʼ

ʻThatʼs a pity, lifeʼs full of it.ʼ

ʻDonʼt talk like that, Drommy,ʼ wailed Cissy. ʻWhat am I to do without you?ʼ

She leant over and clutched her sisterʼs arm, tears rising in her eyes.

ʻWhatʼs the matter today?ʼ said Drommy softly. ʻWhy should you be without us?ʼ

ʻWhen youʼve left school,ʼ whimpered Cissy.

ʻBut thatʼll be several years still,ʼ said Drommy sensibly. ʻThereʼs no reason to think about this now. And youʼve got all the children in your year. Youʼve got friends there, how could you not?ʼ

ʻYouʼre my best friend.ʼ

ʻSomething wrong?ʼ sounded Bellaʼs voice from behind them as three tankards floated neatly down before the girls. Seeing her sistersʼ eyes follow the course of the tankards, she added, ʻYes, thatʼs witchcraft.ʼ

ʻI thought Charms,ʼ said Drommy, trying to make Cissy sit properly in her chair again. ʻCissyʼs just been missing you.ʼ

Bellaʼs eyebrows rose, but she wordlessly put her wand in her robes and lifted her tankard to drink. Her sisters imitated her, Cissy so nervously that she slopped some of the liquid down her robes. She went pink, put down the tank so hastily that even more Butterbeer spilled on the table and withdrew shakily a handkerchief from her robes. Before she could try to dab her robes with it, Drommy pointed her wand at her sister.

ʻ _Scourgify!_ ʼ

The robes immediately cleared as did the table. With a satisfied expression Drommy put her wand back.

ʻAre you allowed to do this?ʼ said Bella with a thrown. ʻYouʼre not of age.ʼ

ʻOh, I didnʼt think about this,ʼ said Drommy, clapping her hand before her mouth. ʻI thought itʼs only forbidden over the holidays.ʼ

ʻDonʼt fret, Drommy, I donʼt know whether itʼs forbidden, I just thought thatʼd be logical. So itʼs probably best to leave the magic to me.ʼ

ʻBut Bella,ʼ exclaimed Drommy. ʻWe all know how you hate household spells.ʼ

ʻI donʼt hate them,ʼ said Bella. ʻTheyʼre just so silly, I canʼt concentrate on such stuff. And what do I need those spells for? I have a house-elf for that rubbish.ʼ

ʻNot everybody can be a genius like you,ʼ said Drommy, shrugging. ʻAs I must leave the glory of advanced magic to you, I donʼt mind excelling at silly spells.ʼ

ʻNo need to be so modest, you-ʼ

ʻHi, Andromeda.ʼ

Drommy turned her head towards the voice and smiled fleetingly. A blond boy had just walked past the girlsʼ table to join some friends several feet away.

ʻWhoʼs that?ʼ asked Bella, frowning at the boyʼs back as he sat down.

ʻI think his nameʼs Ted,ʼ said Drommy indifferently. ʻHeʼs in my year, Hufflepuff I think.ʼ

ʻTed what?ʼ said Bella, her expression darkening.

ʻNo idea,ʼ said Drommy. ʻI never really spoke to him, he just recently started to repeatedly greet me. Itʼs quite flattering, you know.ʼ Drommy grinned while Bellaʼs frown increased.

ʻSo you donʼt know his family?ʼ she muttered. ʻYou shouldnʼt smile at people before you know whether theyʼre worth it.ʼ

ʻI smile at anybody who says "Hi" to me,ʼ said Drommy cheerfully.

ʻDromeda!ʼ exclaimed Bella. ʻThis is no laughing matter. You donʼt know what harm you could do to the wizarding community.ʼ

ʻYouʼre not going to tell me that a community can be ruined by greeting people,ʼ said Drommy, trying to appear serious. ʻI know who I am - who we are - and I am sure thereʼd be a lot more needed to affect us.ʼ

ʻDrommy dear, all I wanted is to stress that you are sometimes being careless,ʼ said Bella, half smiling. ʻYouʼre totally right in placing confidence in our heritage. The three of us are from one of the most ancient and wealthiest British wizarding families. In addition we are very skilled witches-ʼ

ʻYes, you too, Cissy,ʼ interjected Drommy, before her little sister could sigh.

ʻExactly,ʼ seconded Bella. ʻAnd to top all these qualities of background and abilities, we are all very good-looking. I havenʼt met any witch yet who could boast an equal amount of respectability.ʼ

ʻNor a wizard,ʼ added Drommy.

ʻNor a wizard,ʼ repeated Bella with a grimace. ʻThus, it is better to stay independent than to form any ties with someone who cannot boast with similar qualities.ʼ

ʻThanks for the lecture,ʼ said Drommy dryly. ʻI donʼt have the least intention of marrying right now, certainly not any boy I say "Hi" to, and I certainly expect quite something from a man wishing to marry me.ʼ

ʻGood intentions are known to have been thwarted,ʼ said Bella gravely, taking her sisterʼs hand. ʻAnd false tolerance can sometimes prove as disastrous as prejudice.ʼ

ʻI promise to be most intolerant with marriage proposals.ʼ

ʻO Drommy, youʼre going to end badly,ʼ sighed Bella melodramatically, pressing her sisterʼs hand.

ʻItʼd be sad if we could never marry,ʼ whispered Cissy.

ʻWhy?ʼ said Bella. ʻI havenʼt met a man yet who was even close to being my equal. So Iʼm rather on my own, than throw myself away, marrying a man I couldnʼt respect. No, I could never love a man who wouldnʼt beat me in a duel. I think thatʼs what Iʼm going to do, Iʼll duel my suiters and the one surviving Iʼll marry.ʼ

Bella and Drommy burst in giggles while Cissy stared at them in shock.

ʻThatʼs what I want, you see,ʼ Bella said when she had recovered enough. ʻIf I am to change my name I must be able to pronounce the new one with as much pride as my old.ʼ

ʻI love your strategy,ʼ said Drommy. ʻYouʼd better duel for the three of us, then weʼll certainly end as old maids.ʼ

Cissy sniffed. ʻIʼd like to marry,ʼ she breathed. ʻI want children, three girls at best.ʼ

ʻPity Blonde isnʼt a wizarding name,ʼ said Bella. ʻIʼm sure heʼd be perfect for you.ʼ

ʻCertainly more fitting than Black,ʼ grinned Drommy. ʻDonʼt look like that Cissy, youʼre such a dear creature, there wonʼt be a single wizard _not_ begging for your hand.ʼ

ʻHow about that Malfoy boy from Drommyʼs year,ʼ suggested Bella. ʻHeʼd be blonde enough.ʼ

ʻO no, heʼs too mercenary,ʼ disagreed Drommy. ʻCissy needs someone more romantic and considered.ʼ

ʻDonʼt you think the power of love would make him romantic,ʼ said Bella, trying and failing to hide her grin.

ʻI donʼt think he knows Cissy exists, heʼs too arrogant to take any notice of younger students.ʼ

ʻThen itʼs time to point it out to him,ʼ said Bella, no longer attempting to suppress her grin. ʻLetʼs go into matchmaking!ʼ

ʻI fear thatʼd prove too tricky for me,ʼ said Drommy. ʻIʼll devote my life to inventing a self-cleaning birdcage.ʼ

ʻAnd Iʼll change the world,ʼ declared Bella with grandeur. ʻI want my name to be remembered so that posterity shall forever know Bellatrix Black as-ʼ

ʻ- the sister of that ingenious birdcage inventor.ʼ

This time even Cissy joined in their laughter, reaching out for both of them and taking their hands. ʻYouʼre the best sisters in the world,ʼ she whispered.

ʻWell, considering the fact that you donʼt have many others to chose from-ʼ started Bella.

ʻ- we still are very much flattered and declare you the most darling little sister we ever met,ʼ completed Drommy, joining her hand with Bellaʼs so that the three girls formed a circle.

The picture of unity between the sisters provided a lovely sight for anyone observing them and the charmed onlooker would not have believed it possible that anything could ever disrupt this harmony.


	2. The End of Bella Black

_A/N This is set about one and a half year after the preceding chapter. Bella is already married and not exactly happy._ _Warning:_ _It is by far the darkest thing Iʼve ever written. And though there is nothing explicit here, Iʼm almost shocked myself at the content. There are references to suicide and abuse and if you think I should correct the rating, please tell me._

 _Furthermore, Iʼd like to stress that, despite giving Bella a tragic backstory, I still abhor her character in the books. And trying to explain how she became such a monster, does not mean excusing her. As Bella is a fictional character, this is not really a delicate matter, but I think it is something that applies to any tyrant by whom the world has suffered._

* * *

Hidden behind a tall, threatening stone wall, in the middle of a dead park, stood a tall country house, surrounded by old birch trees, which leafless branches swayed slightly in the cold night air. The moon bathed every part of the barren grounds and building its light could touch in a ghastly pallor. As magnificent as the sight of the house was, as clear it was - even in the eerie light of the moon - that it had seen better days. There were large cracks in the walls and the balustrade on the balconies looked as if they had to tumble down at any moment, only held in place by some invisible force or a miracle.

Despite these obvious marks of neglect, the house was not uninhabited; light burnt behind one of the large, gothic windows on the third floor. Should a bird ever dare to fly into the bleak park and up to this window, it would see into a bathroom of stately dimensions. And, like the house, the room would speak of a grandeur that had considerably decayed over the past few years though there were signs that someone had started to ameliorate the situation.

From the flames of the candelabra that were fixed on the walls, the ceiling had turned pitch-black and the silver handles and statues that ornamented the room had oxidized. Even so, had the bird known the room from some months earlier, it would have noticed a significant difference. The filth and dust in the room, emphasizing that the owner thought little of cleanliness, had been removed from the floor, basins and bath. As an even greater surprise, the bird would have seen the bath - a large, almost pool-like construction, that nevertheless was born by its silver lionsʼ feet - in use, what anyone recalling the state of this item some months previous would have deemed impossible.

But back then, the bird would also not have been able to see the occupier of the bath, a creature that contrasted most egregiously with her surroundings. The bird, no judge of human beauty, would not have cared long for the sight, but a human eye would have taken in the strangeness of this appearance.

The woman in the bath, although woman seemed hardly appropriate as she hardly looked like twenty, was of a beauty that might have befitted the house when it was newly built, but now was oddly out of place. And yet, no matter how gleaming and thick her dark hair flowed over her shoulders, over the rim of the bath, no matter how perfect her nose was formed or her heavily lidded eyes were capable of expression or her strong chin gave her face character in addition to beauty, the womanʼs mien mirrored the deplorable state of the house.

Not only someone familiar with the house would have marvelled at the sight of the woman, also former relations would have been amazed upon seeing her face and the bitter lines that, despite her youth, had started to form around her mouth.

After a few months of marriage, little was left of the former decidedness and energy that had been known as the characteristics of Bella Black, the beautiful daughter from an ancient and wealthy family and the best student in her year, or probably the whole school.

But her schooldays were over and so was the belief that anything was possible. Brooding, Bella lay in the bath, her eyes closed, but no relaxation in her strained expression. No pleasant thoughts would come to her of late, she was left to self-reproaches of various kinds and abandonment.

Bella Black had left school with nine N.E.W.T.s, an admired emblem of splendour, revered like a queen. Her head full of ideas how to start into an adult life, she had returned home to be faced by reality. Her parents didnʼt want her to travel and experience adventures, instead she was informed of a proposal of marriage that - as her parents had made very clear - could not be refused unless she wanted to be a selfish, heartless girl and to bring unmeasurable grief and shame over her family.

Bella was as stubborn as her mother and - seconded by her younger sisters - resisted her parentsʼ threats, begging at least for another year before a marriage, at last even consenting to an engagement. Her mother couldnʼt be appeased by such a stratagem and when autumn came and her sisters departed for school, Bella couldnʼt hold up her resistance much longer and love for her parents forced her into agreeing to a marriage to Rodolphus Lestrange in the following winter.

She lived like in trance during the few months before the wedding. She let her mother arrange her clothes, her jewels, her dowry, nodding to whatever was said and avoiding as much as she could her future husband. She could have been comforted by the obvious admiration Rodolphus showed for her, and it might just have satisfied her vanity had he not been destined to be her husband.

She felt no solace when she considered that her bridegroom had a name with a long wizarding history and was in possession of a considerable property as well as a top-security Gringotts vault to which soon a large amount of money from her side would be added. She might even have been able to ignore the fact that Rodolphus was simply ugly. He was built short and stocky, had a void look and a wet pronunciation. Yet, this was not the only reason why she preferred him to be silent. He simply had nothing to say.

She could talk to him about nothing, not about the newest developments in Transfiguration, not about the right way to breed Venomous Tentaculas or the magical properties of the number seven, not even about Quidditch. All he knew, were some rather sinister hexes and he had already boasted with having applied Unforgivable Curses on some Muggles.

Now, it was not that she had any sentimentalities regarding Muggles. Bella had been brought up to have a very pronounced feeling for wizarding honour. But she saw little achievement in using what little magic one had on even weaker beings. She didnʼt need to torture anyone to feel superior, she simply was. She never had to doubt her superiority, certainly not in relation to her husband.

And this was what reduced her to the bath in the middle of the night, four months of married life with a man who was so inferior to her that she didnʼt know anymore whom she despised more, him or herself.

From far off, snoring warbled through the high room and upon a particularly loud grunt, Bellaʼs eyes flew open and - without looking - she reached out over the rim of the bath, searching the floor. She found the desired object, a small, silver dagger, and lifted it up, scrutinizing it as if she had never seen it before. Diligently, she placed its tip onto the middle of her chest and whirled the dagger around. The pain was piercing and distracted her enough to look at what she had done. A small trickle of blood flowed down, soon reaching the water and forming strange patterns upon her bosom. She ran a finger over the wound and licked it, tasting the bloodʼs staleness.

She rolled the dagger between her hands, now and then pointing it at a part of her body, but always letting it sink again. Sometimes she would turn her head to the door, glaring around the room, before she would press her hands on her ears and crouch together, trying to shut out the snoring.

During the first few weeks of her marriage, when she had spent her nights crying or with nightmares, she had often been on the verge of using the dagger against herself, or against him, it made little difference to her as she grew more and more tired, not getting any calm sleep.

When the exhaustion had been too great she had collapsed and spent a couple of days in bed, blissfully alone, always pretending to sleep when her husband came in though he then had the habit of keeping vigil at her side. During this time, she had yearned for a child, hoping to find at least some meaning in life again. But when she had recovered enough to do not have any excuse from staying away from her husband, she didnʼt bear the idea any longer of a child that was anyhow connected to that man.

Thus, she was reduced to spend her nights in the bath, pretending to be able to rub away the filth that was pestering her thoughts while her husbandʼs snores haunted her even in this little refuge. She tried to forget where she was, tried to float away in her imagination, being unbound and free to do as she chose.

But always, just as she was about to lose herself to her inner world, Rodolphusʼs snores would bring her back and fill her with the two desires that kept each other from fulfilling one - either killing her husband or herself. Night after night, she wavered between the two possibilities, finding first one, then the other more attractive, but always when she was about to act, her scruples returned. She had just turned nineteen, she was neither ready for death, nor could she imagine a life as a murderess. She was magically bound to her husband, she had no idea what would happen, should she try to cut herself free. And so she was what she had never needed to be before - scared.

On another snore the dagger clattered out of her hand to the floor and she hastily reached out for a piece of soap that, drying, was half fixed on the ground. Her nails scratched over the soap and she was half-panicking when she finally managed to get it from the floor. Hastily, she began scrubbing her body with it, not caring that she had done this already when she had first climbed into the water.

She rubbed the soap over her breast and thighs till her skin stung all over. Then she relaxed a bit and tried to form figurines under the water with what little remained of the soap. She lowered her body down into the water till it reached her chin, closing her eyes again.

It seemed easy to drown, almost natural. She wished for sleep, imagining how she would sink deeper and deeper until she was under the water and never had to open her eyes again. Inebriated by the fumy soap steam from the magically never cooling water, she pressed her cheek against the cool metal of the bath, her tired mind finally slipping away into unconsciousness.

* * *

ʻMistress?ʼ

Bella woke with a start. Her eyes opened on the large window and she saw the grey morning sky of another rainy day in May. She closed her eyes again. It had to be her imagination, but she was quite certain that, at Hogwarts, May used to be a far sunnier month.

ʻMistress?ʼ asked the quavery voice again.

Unwillingly, she sat up a bit straighter in the bath, turning towards the voice. The old house-elf of the Lestranges, a miserable, half-blind being, stood before her, trembling. Bella looked at the elf contemptuously, taking in a new burn hole in her filthy kitchen towel.

ʻYes?ʼ she asked haughtily.

ʻM-master requires the Mistress at b-breakfast,ʼ stuttered the elf, crouching away as if expecting a blow.

ʻIʼm not hungry,ʼ said Bella, turning pointedly and relaxing in the water again. Her words were perfectly true, she had not felt hunger ever since the marriage had been decided and only eaten out of habit. Looking at her fingers, she saw that they were extremely shrivelled from the night in the water.

ʻM-master says,ʼ stammered the elf, ʻthat he has important news for Mistress. M-mistress should come down im-immediately.ʼ

Bella straightened up again, hatred flooding through her body, washing away any cleaning effect the water might have had upon her mind.

ʻWhat is it?ʼ she snarled.

ʻM-Mucky doesnʼt know,ʼ whimpered the elf. ʻM-master says Mistress must hu-hurry.ʼ

ʻI have not the least intention to hurry,ʼ Bella spit. ʻIʼll get down when it pleases me. Now, get out of here!ʼ

The elf winced and swayed on the spot, the order obviously conflicting with the one she had received from her master. But Bellaʼs command had been too direct to enable her to argue any longer. Kicking herself and tearing the long ears, the elf staggered out of the room, her poor eyesight making her collide against the wall several times.

At another time, Bella might have taken pity on the elf, but fury still swept through her. She was determined to make her husband wait at least an hour. He would be angry and she had just condemned the elf to be at the receiving end of his bad temper. But she didnʼt manage anymore to feel for the elf, she was only disgusted by her husbandʼs treatment of his servant.

She had grown up in the conviction that true nobleness also involved treating an inferior fairly. Of course, this included punishing when a fault was committed, but it equally entailed to praise what had been well executed. That was why the Black elves could be traced back almost as long as the family. It was an honour for them to serve and they wanted their loyalty remembered by their severed heads, a reminder to their descendants to continue the faithful service.

Thus, Bella had tried to be kind to the Lestrangesʼ elf at first though there was little to laud in what the creature did. She had thanked her even when Mucky poured the wine on the table, the smudgy glass remaining empty. Yet, the creature didnʼt seem to grasp the meaning of kind words, always only flinching and tearing her ears, never allowing for any sort of conversation. The elfʼs cooking was horrible, her cleaning was non-existent. But then, she was in a state in which her life would long have ended, had she been a Black house elf. Mucky was the living proof how cruel it was to let house-elves live after they had outlasted their usefulness.

Bella slowly stood up to get out of the water. She had no intention of doing so to prepare to join her husband. But there was a risk that he would come looking for her and then she wanted to be properly dressed, certainly not naked. Her empty stomach lurched at the thought of him. She also remembered why Mucky was blind and this did nothing to increase the respect of her husband.

She and her sisters also had made fun of their house-elf like stitching insults on her towels. But it had been a light-hearted business and the elf even wore the towels on purpose because she knew it amused them. But what her husband and his brother had done was not a joke although he treated the story as if it were one. He had told her himself how he and his brother had used their motherʼs needles to pierce the elf with them, ruining one of her eyes permanently. Bella hadnʼt wanted to hear anymore details.

Insecurely, she walked over to the basin to spit in and to get the bitter taste out of her mouth by rinsing it. Her wet body shivered and she stumbled quickly to the place where she had placed a clean towel, wrapping it tight around herself.

She looked at her bony arms, she let her fingers travel down her ribs, every single one distinct and the bones of her pelvis almost cutting in her flesh. She had lost much weight, she wasnʼt used to be so unhealthily skinny. Feeling sick, she towelled what remained of herself, losing a considerable amount of skin during the procedure, before she put on her dressing gown.

Bella looked over the room. She had left wet traces on the floor and the water in the bath was still fuming. Sighing, she dug her hand in the gown and drew her wand to dry the room. She had always laughed at Dromeda for her obsession with household charms, these days she wished she had her sisterʼs talents, bitterly recalling how long it had taken her to make the bathroom habitable again.

Longingly, desperately, enviously, she thought about her younger sisters while she emptied the bath and wiped away what moisture remained on the floor. Sitting down and trying to get away remains of soap clinging to the tiles, she contemplated the darkened silver of the bathʼs feet. She could ask Drommy how to clean silver, but she didnʼt bear to think of the shame to seek advice on household spells from a little sister. Bella knew this was not reasonable, Drommy would never laugh at her, it was her own sense of dignity that forbid such a step. She was no complainer.

After all, Dromeda was the next to face the same fate, having little more than two years of school before her. And knowing her sister, Bella was sure that her parents awaited an even greater struggle than with her. Drommy was not more stubborn than she was, but she lacked the quality that had made Bella agree at last, solemnity. Bella had been deeply troubled by her motherʼs reproaches of ungratefulness, Dromeda was able to laugh them away.

With another sigh, Bella picked up her dagger and checked the room a last time before she waved the candles out and went over to her bedroom to get dressed. It was one of the massive advantages of a large house to have separate bedrooms though Rodolphus didnʼt allow her to lock the door to his apartment. Still, she had managed to keep him from her room - with the ensuing sacrifices - and therefore to establish in it an above average of cleanliness.

With Drommyʼs knowledge she might have achieved better results, but it had never crossed her mind at school that she should ever be bothered with cleaning. She had been so sure to be destined for higher tasks, mocking her sistersʼ more modest ambitions.

But even with modest ambitions, Bella couldnʼt see Drommy getting any happier than herself. Little Cissy, yes, it appeared plausible that Cissy could become happy with almost any husband if she was subtly enough introduced to him. And as Mother and her good friend Mrs Malfoy had recently been talking a lot of establishing ties between their families, Bella had lost no time in writing to Dromeda to either consider a marriage to the Malfoy boy or to talk Cissy into love with him. Reluctantly, Drommy had agreed to the second plan, as sure as she that Cissy would never dare to cross Mother. Family peace might be preserved if at least the youngest sister proved enthusiastic when asked to marry.

To escape her brooding, Bella quickly dressed, hid dagger and wand in her robes and started to pace the room, walking to and fro between the bathroom door and the window, not taking in her surroundings, only moving with such desperate haste to be doing something and, most of all, not to think.

The door to the bedroom was suddenly ripped open and Bella staggered to an abrupt halt to face the man standing in the doorway. Rodolphus Lestrange had never understood why it would be polite to knock before he entered a room, certainly not in his own house, and certainly not his wifeʼs bedroom. Thus, unwelcome as it was, his arrival came as no surprise to Bella and she immediately took a dignified stance to look contemptuously down at her husband.

ʻCome down, come down!ʼ he huffed without further introduction, beckoning wildly to her.

ʻI am unwell,ʼ said Bella coldly. ʻI will stay in my room today.ʼ

She demonstratively turned her back to him to walk to an armchair, but her husband hastened into the room, taking her arm.

ʻCome down,ʼ he repeated when Bella turned angrily. ʻIt is important, very important, come, my darling, come!ʼ

As he tugged at her arm, she dejectedly accepted her fate and followed the way he led. Yet, this didnʼt save her from him. He laid his arm around her waist, pressing her against him as they walked downstairs and leaning his head on her shoulder. Bella held her head higher to do not have to inhale his smell of rotten fish, bad tobacco and cheap Firewhisky. The eulogy of the toothbrush she had made a few days after their marriage had proved utterly ineffectual.

Eager to get away from him as soon as possible, she quickened her step while he rubbed his teeth against her jaw. He tried to change his grip on her, causing her to miss a step so that she slipped out of his arms and skidded down the stairs a considerable distance before she could stop her fall. Her heels smarted and she suspected that they had been cut open against the steps, but at least she had escaped her husband and before he could reach her she had got to her feet and run down all the way into the hall to the breakfast parlour, sitting down in her chair that was - thanks to convention - the one furthest away from her husbandʼs. The rest of his family was nowhere to be seen.

Rodolphus came into the room just as she was seated, falling to his knees before her.

ʻDid you get hurt, my darling? My poor sweetheart, are you in pain?ʼ

ʻIʼm fine,ʼ she said coldly, trying to prise his fingers from her thigh that he had gripped. Full of revulsion, she looked down at her husband. Their marriage would be so much easier if he was indifferent, but it was her misfortune that he doted on her, thereby only increasing her aversion.

Had he not fallen in love with her - or what he considered to be love - he would never have gone to her parents to ask for her hand and she would have been granted more time before an eventual marriage. But as he had asked and as her parents had been thoroughly satisfied by the venerability of his name and his fortune (that mostly consisted in admittedly very precious antiquities, stored in the Gringotts vault, and a house the Lestranges, despite their wealth, had been to miserly or uncaring to ever restore) she was expected to delight in a match that seemed to please every one but herself.

That he had asked her did not only infuriate her because it had put a rash end to her dreams, the main reason why she hated him for it was that he had dared to. She had been admired infinitely at school, but no one ever had had the audacity to declare himself. They had always known that Bella Black was beyond them, that they were not worth to aspire to her hand. Only he whom she was now forced to call husband had been unaware of the striking gap between them that should have told a loving heart that it had no chance and no right to declare love to the superior creature she had taken for granted that she was.

ʻYou said you had an important communication?ʼ she finally asked when he didnʼt make any signs of stopping to affectionately stroke her leg.

With a tiny bit of satisfaction she saw him wince at her words and he clumsily heaved himself to his feet, putting a hand on her shoulder and pressing her head against his belly.

Before he could say anything a screech filled the parlour and a barn owl swept through an open window and landed in front of Bella.

ʻHello, Satelles,ʼ she muttered and stroke the owlʼs head, then untied a letter and a parcel from the owlʼs leg.

ʻWhatʼs this?ʼ her husband asked, shifting nervously on the spot.

Bella wrenched her head from his grasp and turned the letter, recognizing the hand on the envelope. ʻItʼs my sister Andromeda.ʼ

ʻThat doesnʼt matter,ʼ he muttered, shoving away her hand holding the letter. ʻListen...ʼ

Bella tried to breath calmly while he continued to move restlessly, impeding her every movement and still not saying whatever was bothering him. ʻIs there a problem?ʼ she asked at last sharply.

ʻA problem?ʼ he said as if he were surprised, wiping his forehead. ʻNo, no, on the opposite, a surprise, a very pleasant surprise...ʼ

ʻIndeed,ʼ she sneered, as he wiped his nose on the back of his hand.

ʻIndeed, indeed,ʼ he stammered. ʻWell, the matter is this...ʼ He coughed several times as if to increase his courage. ʻThe Dark Lord would like to see you.ʼ

Bella would almost have laughed. She knew that her husband had joined some mean-spirited little group of coxcombs, considering themselves the paragons of wizardry. As soon as she had heard that her husband was involved with them, she had lost what little interest she had had before to meet them, even political parallels taken in account.

ʻWhat an honour,ʼ she reduced herself to say gravely, very well knowing that he wouldnʼt hear the irony.

ʻYes, yes,ʼ he stuttered, obviously glad for her reaction. ʻThat it is, it is. But, darling, my dearest, my sweetheart...ʼ

She fixed her eyes on her owl that was picking maggots from the toasts, trying not to listen to his effusions of tenderness, while his fingers crept down her shoulders.

ʻThe thing is this, love,ʼ he finally continued, shaking slightly, ʻthat the Master is no friend of disrespect.ʼ

She wrinkled her nose, despising the way a wizard of a (once) respectable family spoke fearfully about a master. Simultaneously, she enjoyed his fright at what her behaviour might entail. And she had absolutely no motivation to take away his disquiet.

ʻYou doubt my abilities to behave myself,ʼ she said gravely, remaining absolutely rigid as his hands lay shakily on her breast.

ʻWell, my darling little wife,ʼ he stuttered, ʻyou are a lovely creature and I find your little quirks very stimulating, but... this is a different matter. If... if you should show any sign of... lack of esteem... he might react promptly. Itʼs your life thatʼs here... and mine too...ʼ

Turning her head from him she smiled, relishing his trouble. That Dark Lord would be just as conceited a creature as her husband, thinking that because he had a nice sum at Gringotts and one or the other wizards in his ancestry, she would welcome his acquaintance. That master of her husband would be a copy of him, probably slightly worse, but certainly nothing she had to be afraid of. She had a better background, more judgement and considerably more talent. She would like to see that self-declared Lord trying to punish her for - disrespect. As if she owed anyone respect.

ʻIʼm but an ignorant girl,ʼ she said quietly, lowering her head to hide her grin.

ʻYes, exactly,ʼ said her husband enthusiastically. ʻI knew you would understand. So get yourself ready, weʼre supposed to meet him at eleven.ʼ

He bent down and tried to kiss her mouth that she kept tightly shut, turning her head away again. Nervous as he was he didnʼt persevere, but stumbled out of the room.

With a sigh of relief Bella watched him go before she let her eyes travel over the breakfast table. Satelles was still busy with the maggots in the toasts and what little appetite she had had dispersed at the sight. A look at the clock informed her that it was a quarter after ten. Wishing to avoid her husband, she took the parcel and letter from her sister and Apparated into her bedroom.

She threw herself in the armchair and opened Dromedaʼs letter, running her eye over it with a mixture of sadness and jealousy. She longed to be back at school, back to the classes in which she excelled. Dromedaʼs letter reminded her so much of who she had been. At the same time Bella was painfully aware how short a time Drommy was given in which she could remain the girl everyone knew. Bella had already been a great cause for anger in the family because of the circumstances of her marriage; her little sister would bear it no better. There was not a single wizard who could live up to both Drommyʼs and their parentsʼ wishes. The letterʼs only positive news were that the Malfoy boy had risen in Cissyʼs opinion from ʻvery plainʼ to ʻexceedingly handsomeʼ, a small solace.

Bella reached the last paragraph, threw the letter away and ripped the parcel open, eager to get to its content. She had already eaten about five biscuits, before she could eat slowly enough to savour the chocolate flavour. Leaning back in the armchair and nibbling at a biscuit, her memories travelled back to the days when she had painted her future in the brightest colours as a companion and an inspiration for her sisters.

Pulling herself together, she magicked the parcel whole again and hid it in her drawer together with the letter. She changed her robes, wishing to appear as dignified as possible by choosing a completely black robe with a broad ruff.

With another woeful pang, she started to comb her hair before the mirror. At home, their hose-elf had been a true artist in draping hair in the most extravagant stiles. She and her sisters had spent hours with the elf before the mirror, experimenting what could be built on their heads. Of course, the blind elf here would hardly manage to hold a brush.

She had just bound her hair into a glistening knot when her husband threw open the door again.

ʻQuick!ʼ he whispered. ʻItʼs five minutes to eleven, quick.ʼ

Demonstratively slowly, Bella rose from the chair, giving her reflection a dazzling smile. Despite the pallor of her skin, the hollow cheeks and the rings under her eyes, she still looked beautiful. A look at Rodolphus sobered her, it would not be hard to be good-looking next to him.

With deliberate slowness, she approached her husband. When she put her arm under his, she could feel him tremble. He turned on the spot and she automatically imitated him, experiencing a moment of discomfort as they Disapparated to reappear at the border of a wood.

Rodolphus wiped his sweaty forehead, then dragged her with him until they reached an old ruin. There was one big arch that lead further into the only remaining building, some sort of giant hall. Her husband tightened his grip on her and lifted his left arm as if greeting someone, marching through the arch. For a second, Bella felt something like a massive wall of air in her way. Then Rodolphus had pulled her through to his side.

The hall, severely dilapidated from the outside, was in perfect shape once they had entered. The large room was almost empty apart from a large table at one end from which rose a tall man, dressed and hooded in black robes. He slowly approached them, his face hidden in the shadows.

Her husband loosened his grip on her and sank to his knees. When the man stopped several feet away from them, Rodolphus crept forwards and kissed the hem of the manʼs robe. Bella watched him with disgust as he crawled backwards to her again. Contemptuously, she turned from her husband to look at the fabled master who calmly removed the hood from his head.

He was ugly, that was the first conviction she gained as she scrutinized him. He was tall and thin with markedly receding black hair, so far he looked inconspicuous. It were his features that gave him a creepy, unnatural look. Bella fleetingly wondered whether someone had thrown acid at him and thereby distorted what might have once been a handsome face. His skin was not pale, but snow white what formed an odd contrast with his hair. There seemed to be some infection to his eyes for they were disproportionately bloodshot.

The man looked at Bella, appearing moderately interested, tilting his head on one side. Bella had heard that he could read minds, but - first - she doubted such rumours, and - second - she had not the least intention to hide her thoughts. She scorned a man who was served by imbeciles and who aspired to titles he had no right to carry. If he was as irascible as her husband, he could try to kill her. Either he would fail as was most likely - she had never lost a duel in Defence against the Dark Arts - or he would kill her, nothing dreadful in her situation.

The silence lengthened in which Bella looked disdainfully at him and he gazed back without any apparent emotion. She could hear her husbandʼs breathing speeding up and she smiled to herself.

ʻMadam Lestrange,ʼ said the man suddenly, his voice surprisingly high. ʻIt is a pleasure to meet you. I have heard much of your qualities.ʼ He smiled coldly.

Bella inclined her head in mock modesty. ʻA loving husband may not be the most impartial judge,ʼ she replied gravely, pleased by the echoing effect of the hall that threw her deep, melodious voice impressively back.

ʻIt was not your husband who made me desirous of your acquaintance, madam,ʼ said the man, sounding slightly amused. ʻYour looks are of little value for me while your lineage and prodigious talents have convinced me that you, madam, would be a glorious addition to my circle of... friends.ʼ

He made a little bow and Bella inclined her head again, despite herself a little flattered. She wondered who might have praised her merits, but pride forbid her to ask. Her husband was still breathing heavily, his fear almost palpable. She felt encouraged.

When the man didnʼt continue to talk, but stood on the spot, looking at her almost as if amused, and her husband seemed to be seconds from a collapse, Bella decided to break the silence.

ʻThis is a very unexpected offer of... friendship,ʼ she said, imitating his pronunciation of the last word. ʻI am no friend of hasty decisions.ʼ

ʻNeither am I,ʼ said the man, a thin smile on his lips, while her husband suppressed a moan. ʻBut I hope that we will be given time to get to know each otherʼs plans for the future.ʼ

Bella internally flinched when she heard what could be but mockery of her situation. The pain was quickly superseded by anger and she raised her head defiantly.

ʻI have not the least reason to wish for your acquaintance,ʼ she said coolly. She was rewarded by a terrified squeak of her husband, but the manʼs smile broadened though there was no humour detectable in it.

ʻYou, madam, certainly have the right to be demanding in such matters,ʼ he said with the shadow of a bow, then looking at her, appearing slightly curious of what she might say next.

Though Bella greatly enjoyed her husbandʼs panic, she had not seen anything to interest her in that so-called lord and she began to feel rather bored. But then, a thought, a memory of a former claim she had made in happier times, came to her and the feeling of recklessness and adventure she had missed for so many months darted back.

ʻThey say, mister,ʼ she called, the echoing effect also increasing her cynical tone, ʻthat youʼre a talented warlock. I would be curious to know whether there is any truth contained in these stories.ʼ

The man actually grinned, though it did nothing to make him more friendly looking, rather the opposite. ʻJust set a task, madam, and I will strive to fulfil it,ʼ he said with pointed politeness.

ʻDuel me.ʼ

Rodolphus squealed and fell to his knees, but the man inclined his head. Triumphant, she made a step forward.

ʻNo, Master, I beg you!ʼ exclaimed her husband and threw himself on the floor between them. ʻSheʼs just a stupid girl, she knows not what sheʼs saying. I told her to behave, but a spoilt-ʼ

ʻEnough,ʼ said the man softly, yet Rodolphus was immediately silent. ʻI am willing, even delighted, to accede to your wifeʼs wish. I am sure that - once having witnessed my abilities - I will improve in her opinion.ʼ

ʻIndeed,ʼ she said, not hiding her smile now as she stepped past her husband. ʻI promise you, should you get the better of me, I will be as faithful a friend, a servant, a slave, as you can wish. Otherwise, I will consider it my privilege, never having to meet you again.ʼ

ʻA fair proposition,ʼ said the man, smiling likewise as he went to face her. ʻAre there any other conditions you make?ʼ

ʻPlease, Master,ʼ whimpered Rodolphus before she could decline, ʻdonʼt kill her, donʼt punish her for-ʼ

ʻHave we not made it perfectly clear,ʼ interrupted the man, not looking at Rodolphus, ʻthat there is no discussion about killing each other, that it would be of no advantage to either of us? I suggest you go out of the way.ʼ

Bella watched her husband mopping his face as he crawled to the wall, but it didnʼt disgust her as usual, excitement flooding her body as she drew her wand to finally use it again for a worthier task than scrubbing the floor. She thought she felt the wand vibrate in her hand, as eager to perform as she was.

Her adversary was still smiling and so was she as she imagined how he would soon find that she was more than a match for him. For she couldnʼt lose, she had absolutely no experience with that and she wouldnʼt start it now.

When they faced each other from a reasonable duelling distance, the man bowed his head and she curtsied. Then they raised their wands.

Simultaneously they swung them over their shoulders, but before Bella could perform the Stunning Spell she had intended to use, she was forced to block the unknown curse that flew at her. Without wasting any time to wonder about the spell, she cut the air with her wand, sending a strong blast of wind against him, but it had proceeded only a short distance when it suddenly turned against her and she was blown back to the wall until she could stop the gush of air.

Surprised to meet with far better fighting skills than she had expected, Bella looked over to her opponent. He was standing calmly like he wanted to give her the chance to recover. Angrily, she cast a Stinging jinx at him, immediately followed by a Disarming and a Stunning Spell. Almost lazily he deflected them with Shield Charms before he turned his wand in an elegant spiral.

Around Bella, the air started to vibrate and dust rose from the ground. A wall of whirling wind began to move around her with increasing speed, tugging at her from all sides. She hastily formed a Shield Charm and surrounded herself with it because the hurricane of which she was the centre didnʼt allow her any longer to observe what was going on outside her windy prison.

Confusion woke in her. She hadnʼt expected magic she didnʼt know. Unable to think of something with which to fight the whirlwind, she decided to Disapparate to another corner of the room. She turned on the spot, but it was like running into a solid wall and she staggered, gasping. She couldnʼt Apparate in this hall.

Slightly panicky, she shot an Impediment Jinx into the storm, then hastily renewed her Shield Charm. Yet, her curse didnʼt have any effect on the wind, she still didnʼt know what was going on, not even where her adversary was. She breathed as calmly as she could, trying to think up a way out.

Before she could come to any conclusion, the wind that tossed at her from every side loosened her bun and her hair fluttered wildly around her face, impeding her sight even further. Grabbing the hair with her free hand she conjured a board of wood to shield herself from the storm. But it was ripped from her and became part of the tornado, dangerously flying around her. The wind seemed to close in and she had to concentrate not to be torn off her feet.

ʻ _Finite Incantatem!_ ʼ she screamed out in her despair.

Immediately, everything was quiet. Perplexed she tripped, then straightened up to orient herself.

Before she could do anything, she had fallen to the ground, screeching in utmost pain. Her insides were burning, her blood was boiling, singeing her whole body, cutting her into tiny pieces, but never oblivion taking her in, only more and more pain, always worse and worse just when she was certain that she had reached the peak of agony.

As unexpectedly as it had come, the pain was gone and she was lying on the floor. Shaking madly all over, she tried to lift herself from the ground. She looked at her hands and arms and couldnʼt see any trace from the pain that had eaten her body seconds ago. She spit a strand of hair out of her mouth and heaved herself in a sitting position, panting and her arms hardly able to support her weight.

She was still gasping for breath when she noticed her wand missing. She grasped around herself, overthrowing her feeble balance and sinking back to the floor. Full of shock, she finally looked up.

Her adversary stood over her, looking down with a satisfied smile, holding his wand in one hand, her wand in the other.

The truth of her defeat washed through her and she closed her eyes, ashamed and full of disbelief. He had won, she had lost the duel. This was the truth, but it was impossible. Impossible! That man, a man she had been so certain of having but created himself a reputation out of the mediocrity of his surroundings, a man of whom it would be easy for her to get the better, that man had actually defeated her, had used magic against her she had not known, had, in short, proved the more skilled, the more talented wizard. She was humiliated.

Opening her eyes again and blinking to fight against tears, she put herself up on her elbows and looked her conqueror in the face.

ʻCan we agree that I have won?ʼ he asked softly.

A gagging sound escaped her as she opened her mouth and she closed it quickly, sitting properly up and breathing deeply and as secretly as possible wiping her face.

ʻYou have,ʼ she finally managed to whimper, mortified by the feeble sound of her voice.

ʻThen I need not have any scruple to return your wand,ʼ he said with the slightest trace of amusement in his voice, bending down and offering her the wand.

ʻThank you,ʼ she muttered, shame making her avoid his eyes. Yet, she was grateful that he didnʼt gloat too openly in his victory.

ʻAnd our conditions are still valid?ʼ he asked silkily, his behaviour giving her the impression that everything had gone exactly as he had planned.

She winced, having completely forgotten what she had said before the duel. But he had won true and fairly, there could be no discussion. She couldnʼt take back what she had said before; she had met more than her match and all she could do now was to be as dignified in her defeat as she could.

ʻThey are,ʼ she replied with as much gravity as possible though her voice was still very thin. ʻI keep to what I said. From now on, I will be your faithful slave, I will serve you as you wish to the best of my abilities.ʼ

ʻSo I can welcome you as a friend and alley?ʼ he asked softly.

She gulped, but a promise was a promise and at least he treated her with more respect than she had expected.

ʻMaster, I am your servant,ʼ she said with all the firmness she could master.

He extended his hand. She hesitated a second, then took it and he drew her to her feet.

ʻI honour you,ʼ he said, keeping his hold on her as she tried to regain her balance, ʻfor your impressive talents and your strength of will. You shall have a place of honour in the ranks of those I lead. That our alliance may be to the advantage of the whole wizarding world.ʼ

She wiped the newly rising tears away. Despite all the humiliation, she started to feel truly grateful to be met with so much respect. She remembered how her husband had crept towards him - she wondered for a second where Rodolphus was, but chased the thought quickly away again - and couldnʼt help feeling flattered in comparison. She now knew that this man was indeed a superior wizard and it would be less disgraceful to be his servant than her husbandʼs wife. Basically, nothing had changed for worse. And maybe, if his words should really prove true, her life would change too and finally take a turn that would be closer to what she had once pictured.

Consoled and hopeful she looked her new master in the face. Even if he did look strange, he nevertheless was dignified, a striking contrast to Rodolphus. She had no reason to be ashamed to follow him. She bent down and kissed his hand.


	3. The Last Time on the Train

_A/N This is set another two years later, just as Andromeda has finished her Hogwarts education._

* * *

The landscape visible from the windows of the Hogwarts Express had for a while been becoming less and less rural, indicating to the students even without looking at their watches that the train was approaching London. The corridors began to empty, compartment doors were being shut and people started their preparations to get from the train.

In one compartment, the occupants didnʼt display any of the busy airs that enlivened the rest of the train. The two girls were sitting in silence opposite each other. The younger looking blonde was gazing at the compartment door with an enchanted air, a smile lingering on her lips. Her companion, despite the light brown hair her features very similar to the otherʼs, was staring into a book on her lap, yet her eyes had not moved for several minutes. She appeared tense, the other not noticing anything, thoroughly diverted by the attention the door commanded from her.

A scuffle some second-years made before their compartment finally brought back enough consciousness to the blonde to look around, neatly fold her hands and sigh happily. Lovingly, she smiled at the other girl.

ʻHeʼll write, wonʼt he?ʼ she asked, glowing with joy.

Her companion started and looked up. She blinked hastily, obviously not having listened.

ʻHeʼs the best, the handsomest, the kindest, the wisest, the noblest, the most wonderful man in the world!ʼ exclaimed the blonde, no longer able to suppress her admiration. She jumped up and sat down next to the other, throwing her arms around her.

The other smiled distractedly, closed her book and laid an arm around the blonde. Yet, she didnʼt look at her, but chose to stare out of the window instead, her whole demeanour as troubled as the otherʼs was happy.

Slowly, it dawned upon the blonde that her state of overflowing delight was not shared and she tried to look the other in the face.

ʻDrommy?ʼ she then asked shyly. ʻDromeda, sister, is something the matter?ʼ

ʻNot at all,ʼ said Drommy, turning her head and forcing a smile on her lips. ʻI am very glad for your happiness.ʼ

Her sister giggled and turned slightly pink. ʻI am happy,ʼ she breathed, the smile spreading over her whole face and her eyes staring dreamily out of the window. Again, it took her some time to realize that Drommy was preoccupied by totally different feelings. The blondeʼs smile faltered.

ʻAre you-ʼ she started anxiously, ʻDrommy, youʼre not... Iʼm sorry if... are you jealous?ʼ

ʻJealous?ʼ asked Drommy in honest confusion, turning to the other. ʻOf what should I be jealous?ʼ

Her sister looked relieved. ʻNothing,ʼ she whispered. ʻI just thought that you might... when I was talking about Lucius, you looked as if it wasnʼt pleasant for you, then I thought that maybe you...ʼ

ʻNo, Cissy, honestly,ʼ said Drommy with an almost sarcastic laugh. ʻI wasnʼt thinking about Lucius, no need for you to worry. No, itʼs-ʼ

She stopped short and turned abruptly to the window again.

ʻItʼs what?ʼ asked Cissy, trying to make her look around. ʻDrommy, whatʼs troubling you? Please tell me.ʼ

ʻIʼm fine,ʼ said her sister, decidedly not looking around.

ʻAre you sad because youʼll never go back to Hogwarts?ʼ asked Cissy. ʻIʼm sure that youʼll be fine.ʼ

ʻLike Bella?ʼ said her sister harshly.

ʻB-Bella is...ʼ stuttered Cissy. ʻSheʼs... sheʼs not unhappy is she?ʼ

ʻBella is not who she was,ʼ cried Drommy out so unexpectedly that Cissy flinched. ʻI once used to share my secrets with her, I sought her advice and she asked my opinion and... but since her marriage... sheʼs become so different, I hardly recognize her anymore.ʼ

ʻShe- she was always a bit fierce,ʼ said Cissy. ʻI donʼt know whether she is that different-ʼ

ʻShe is!ʼ interrupted her sister. ʻWhat am I to do?ʼ

Cissyʼs eyes widened. ʻYou donʼt think youʼll become like Bella?ʼ she asked. ʻIʼm sure you wonʼt, I donʼt allow you to. You must stay as you are.ʼ

She smiled encouragingly at her sister who shook her head.

ʻYou donʼt understandʼ she whispered, looking at her knees and nervously kneading her hands. Suddenly, she seemed to come to a decision and straightened up to look at her sister. ʻCissy,ʼ she whispered with unexpected excitement. ʻCan you keep a secret?ʼ

Her sister beamed, glad to be confided in. ʻYou know I can,ʼ she whispered back with a hasty look at the compartment door. Drommy nestled closer to speak in her sisterʼs ear.

ʻIʼm engaged.ʼ

ʻNo!ʼ exclaimed Cissy, falling around her neck. ʻHow wonderful! Who? When? How? Why did you never tell me?ʼ

The other girl grinned guiltily, recommencing the nervous kneading of her hands. Her sister interrupted this, taking both hands in hers. ʻYou never told me,ʼ she said half amused, half reproachful. ʻI thought we didnʼt have any secrets from each other. But tell me, who is it?ʼ

ʻDo you remember a Hufflepuff called Ted?ʼ asked Drommy nervously.

Cissy frowned. ʻIsnʼt this the one who sometimes greets you? The one who borrowed your copy of _Advanced Transfiguration_ when we last worked together in the library?ʼ

Drommy nodded.

Cissy giggled. ʻAnd I wondered why he didnʼt have such an elementary book. I bet thatʼs how youʼve been communicating.ʼ She giggled even harder at her sisterʼs expression. ʻHow long have you been dating him?ʼ she added eagerly as soon as she could control her voice.

ʻHe asked me to become pen pals a year ago,ʼ explained her sister, violently reddening. ʻWeʼve been writing to each other all summer and in autumn he told me heʼd love me.ʼ

ʻThatʼs so sweet!ʼ said Cissy, embracing her sister. ʻHe looks nice. And heʼs blonde.ʼ (She giggled again.) ʻWhatʼs his surname again?ʼ

Drommy winced at the question as if it had slapped her in the face. She seemed to need to pluck up all her courage before she muttered, ʻTonks.ʼ

ʻTonks,ʼ repeated her sister, leaning back thoughtfully. After a long moment, she admitted with a shake of her head, ʻI canʼt place him anywhere, where does his family belong to?ʼ

Drommy closed her eyes and became very rigid as if trying to shut out the question. But then she opened her mouth and the words came out, almost like against her will. ʻHeʼs Muggle-born.ʼ

ʻNo!ʼ shrieked Cissy, springing to her feet, now full of shock and paling. ʻHe canʼt be! Drommy, thatʼs not possible. What are you telling me? Dromeda!ʼ

Very slowly, Drommy opened her eyes to look at her sister who stood some feet away from her, trembling. With equal languor Drommy grinned a strangely humourless smile.

Cissyʼs expression revived a bit and she dropped back in a seat. ʻThatʼs not funny, Drommy,ʼ she complained. ʻDo you have any idea how you shocked me? For a moment, I thought you were serious.ʼ

ʻI am.ʼ

Cissy gaped at her sister, most obviously past the power of speech. Drommy on the other hand seemed to find that behaviour amusing for her face twitched and contorted, then she started to snigger, rocking to and fro, finally bursting out laughing, or probably sobbing, it was hard to tell. Her sister stared at her full of worry, seeming to fear the other might have lost her mind.

ʻDrommy?ʼ she moaned. ʻDrommy, whatʼs going on?ʼ

ʻYou donʼt think it is possible to love a Muggle-born?ʼ sniggered her sister.

ʻNo, of course not,ʼ whispered Cissy. ʻThey are very base, dirty things. Theyʼre stupid, primitive, vicious... worse than animals. You, of all people _you_ , my dearest, sweetest sister, you couldnʼt love something like that.ʼ

ʻDidnʼt you just say he looks nice?ʼ asked Drommy with a faintly maniacal grin.

ʻI...ʼ said Cissy helplessly, tears rising in her eyes. ʻI... but Lucius said this about the Muggles and you said yourself that itʼs good to listen to Lucius-ʼ

ʻI said itʼs good if _you_ listen to Lucius,ʼ corrected Drommy.

ʻBut isnʼt this the same?ʼ asked Cissy nonplussed.

Drommy sighed. ʻFor you it is,ʼ she said sadly. ʻSo, you think Iʼm in the wrong?ʼ

ʻO Drommy,ʼ wailed Cissy anew. ʻHow can you be serious? A Muggle? What will Mum and Dad say and... Drommy, what will Lucius say?ʼ

Cissy started to sob while Drommy watched her absent-mindedly. ʻYou donʼt understand,ʼ she breathed when her sister made a short pause in her weeping. ʻI need him. Iʼll tell everybody this evening.ʼ

Cissy lifted her head to stare at her sister with eyes full of horror, tears streaming over her face. ʻHave you been given a love potion?ʼ she asked at last and, apparently drawing courage from her guess, edged closer to her sister. ʻYou must have swallowed a love potion,ʼ she said soothingly. ʻWeʼll get this right, donʼt worry. I wonʼt allow any Mudblood to steal you from us. Iʼll help you, youʼre not yourself, you poor darling, but weʼll sort this out.ʼ

She tentatively reached for her sister, but before she could touch her, Drommy slapped the extended hand away and gripped the otherʼs shoulders. ʻNo, Cissy, no,ʼ she panted. ʻI am absolutely aware of what Iʼm doing, of what Iʼm saying. I canʼt live without him, not one single day. This evening, Iʼll tell Mum and Dad and either they accept my choice or Iʼll run away. I have to, I have to.ʼ

She shook her sister who could but stare and cry. ʻD-Drommy, please,ʼ she stuttered at last between two violent shakes. ʻPlease, think about what youʼre saying. You canʼt mean it.ʼ

ʻI thought about it,ʼ hissed Drommy. ʻFor at least half a year Iʼve been thinking about nothing else. Donʼt you think you can convince me of it being wrong. I argued with myself, believe me. I told myself everything, every obstacle, every consequence that I would face and itʼs no use. I must marry Ted soon or Iʼll go crazy.ʼ

Cissyʼs expression strongly indicated that she considered her sister already as crazy as one could get, but she didnʼt voice this line of thought. Meanwhile Drommy slowly relaxed, letting go of her sister and staring into nothingness. Tears began to fill her eyes too.

ʻO my little Cissy!ʼ she suddenly exclaimed, drawing her sister in a hug. ʻTell me that you donʼt hate me, tell me that you will not leave me.ʼ

The second Drommy started to cry, Cissy joined her, her sobs as vehement as before. ʻB-but you s-said yourself,ʼ she hiccoughed, ʻthat y-youʼll run a-away. I c-canʼt, Drommy, you cannot ex-expect me to r-run away from home a-and what w-would L-Lucius think o-of me? Drommy, what i-if Lucius breaks w-with me? I-Iʼve still got a year left at school and what if L-Lucius d-decides h-he...ʼ Her voice trailed away, her moans simultaneously increasing.

ʻYou donʼt think all to highly of his fidelity do you?ʼ muttered Drommy, wet cheek to wet cheek with her sister.

ʻWho am I in comparison to him?ʼ asked Cissy after several sobs. ʻSomeone as wonderful as Lucius will be surrounded by millions of women desiring to marry him. I-Iʼm so scared that he will forget me.ʼ

ʻWould you want to marry a man who can so easily forget you?ʼ

Cissy didnʼt even make an attempt to grasp her sisterʼs meaning, hanging half lifeless over her shoulder. ʻOf course I want to marry him,ʼ she whispered. ʻI love him.ʼ

ʻDo you love me?ʼ

ʻO-of course.ʼ

ʻWhen Iʼm married to Ted, will you visit me?ʼ

ʻO-of -ʼ Cissy gulped. ʻDrommy, donʼt. Donʼt run away, donʼt tell Mum and Dad, at least not today. Wait! O Drommy, please, please stay-ʼ

ʻWill you visit me?ʼ

Cissy loosened the embrace enough to be able to look her sister in the face. ʻI-if Iʼm not forbidden.ʼ

ʻIf youʼre forbidden?ʼ

ʻI... you cannot ask me to disobey our parents?ʼ

Drommy let her arms that had still been on her sisterʼs shoulders sink. ʻYou wouldnʼt have to tell,ʼ she whispered. ʻAt least write to me. In Hogwarts, no one will know if you do. I wonʼt tell anybody. Just write to me from time to time and Iʼll write to you - only when youʼre at Hogwarts. No one would know.ʼ

Cissy hesitated, shivering all over her body. Then her expression hardened. ʻIʼll ask Lucius.ʼ

ʻDonʼt!ʼ exclaimed Drommy, her eyes flying open in shock. ʻThatʼs none of his business.ʼ

Cissy looked petulant. ʻIf you act upon love, so shall I. I donʼt want to lose him. You cannot ask me to, considering _you_ risk everything for love.ʼ Cissy breathed heavily, then added disdainfully, ʻFor what you think is love.ʼ

The sisters looked at each other, their emotions too multitudinous and contradictory to put them into words. Probably they would have continued to stare into each otherʼs eye forever, but a sharp whistle of the train made them jump.

Drommy looked out of the window, quickly wiping her face.

ʻWeʼre already in London,ʼ she said with a thicker voice than usual, getting to her feet. ʻWe will reach Kings Cross almost immediately.ʼ

ʻDrommy,ʼ said Cissy feebly, standing shakily up too. ʻTake my money. Youʼve given almost everything to Sirius for Cauldron Cakes and I wonʼt need any.ʼ

ʻCauldron Cakes?ʼ

ʻDrommy!ʼ moaned Cissy, taking a purse out of her robes. ʻHow can you joke now? Please, take what I have, itʼs yours as good as mine. And who knows when I can give you something again? See you again?ʼ

Drommy scowled, heaving down their two trunks. Cissy edged closer to her sister and quickly grabbed her purse. Hastily, she began to shove the content of hers into her sisterʼs. Drommy made an angry step towards her, but just then the train reached the station and stopped, so that Drommy toppled into her sister. Both purses fell to the floor and the money spilt everywhere. Letting out a small wail, Cissy dropped to her knees and began putting the money back, half blinded by tears.

Drommy wavered, remaining standing next to the two trunks while outside their compartment doors could be heard being slammed. Cissy stumbled to her feet again and tried to hand the purse to her sister.

Drommy ignored her and made an attempt to walk out of the compartment. Cissy gripped her robes and put the purse in it. Drommy turned angrily, but then shrugged.

ʻDry your eyes,ʼ she muttered. ʻI donʼt want to answer questions now. No need to say anything too soon. One last supper at home...ʼ

Cissy hiccoughed. ʻIʼll say that I already miss Lucius,ʼ she whispered. ʻI wonʼt say anything.ʼ

Drommy leant over to her sister and kissed her on the cheek.

ʻCome on then,ʼ she said with a sigh, and the two sisters walked out of their compartment to descend on to the platform and join their parents.


End file.
